


Whatever Comes Next

by thepriceswepaid



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Happy Ending?, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-22
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-11-12 15:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepriceswepaid/pseuds/thepriceswepaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TEMPORARY HIATUS -- One dies, and the other is forced to go on alone. What, then, happens when they come back?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All Fall Down

They were exhausted. It seemed like the past five weeks had been one endless barrage of fighting. It had been one tidal wave of enemies after another, and the Avengers were just short of drowning. Of course, the added firepower the God of Mischief provided was more than enough to keep the tides in their favor, Tony reflected with a grin. He could see him on the periphery of his HUD, a vision in black, green, and gold, with magic swirling around him as he took down another one of Dr. Doom's creations.

 

It had been three years since the incident with the Chitauri, and two since the Aesir had, in a wildly unprecedented move, officially joined the team. They had both held out for three months before the sexual tension reached a peak, and Tony found himself once again pinned to a window of his penthouse by the god.

 

After that, they became nearly inseparable. Tony spent countless hours studying the Aesir's magic in return for teaching Loki everything about his lab, and work. They fought, going a day or two without speaking until one of them found it in them to move past their damned pride and seek the other out. If their fighting was fantastic, then the make up sex was phenomenal, and Tony would gladly endure the former to have the latter. Theirs wasn't a fairy-tale romance. The storybook moments were few and far between, but neither ever doubted the other's affection. Somehow, the God of Chaos had found an anchor that kept him from falling back into the abyss, and that anchor was a man just as broken, and stubborn, and passionate, as himself.

 

Flash back to the present, the team had finally managed to beat back most of the Doombots and regroup. They were all dirty, exhausted, and attempting to ignore their own injuries as they made their way to the transport that would take them back to the helicarrier. All of them sported gashes and bruises as well as tears in their uniforms, and Iron Man's power was on the lowest reserve levels. The past few weeks had taken a hard toll on them, and they were so worn down that they didn't notice the last Doombot until it was nearly on top of them. One moment they were exchanging barbs about the mission, the next they were scrambling to disperse the mechanical creature as it barreled its way towards them.

 

The suit's reserve power drained just as the Doombot came down on them, firing the last of its missiles straight towards them. The first two sailed over them, crashing into the pavement. The third slammed into the side of of building, and they heard a sickening crack as the support rods buckled under the sudden immense strain. The Hulk viciously ripped the machine apart like paper, but it was too late. The building was coming down, and they were right in the middle of its path. Steve would later curse himself for not being more attentive to his team, Thor would blame himself for not being faster - stronger, and Tony would rage at himself for not improving the goddamned power system to his suit while he had the chance.

 

It all happened too fast. One moment Tony was reaching for the manual release on the suit in a last-ditch effort to escape the plummeting hail of concrete and steel, then next he was lying on the ground well out the way, his armor half off and a strange tingling feeling coursing through his body. "What the he-" And then he knew. His Trickster had been fully drained after the fighting, had barely been able to follow the group back to the transport. In a moment of sheer desperation, he had done the only thing he could to save the man he had come to care for so dearly. Using the last whispers of magic left in his grasp, he had teleported the billionaire out of the range of the building, sacrificing his own chance of escape. The team watched in horror as Loki collapsed, completely spent, while the full weight of the building's side crashed down on top of him.

 

It took the team, fully assisted by S.H.I.E.L.D. emergency crews, an hour to break through the rubble and find him. When they did... The sight hit Tony like a wrecking ball to the chest. The tangled wreck on the ground wasn't moving. He approached slowly, nearly tripping on the remains of what had been the west side of the Melrose Hotel. He crouched down, gingerly pushing the last bit of concrete off of his lover's body."Come on Reindeer Games, open your eyes," he pleaded, cradling the Aesir against his chest. Loki chuckled darkly, little flecks of blood spraying against Tony's chest when it turned into a violent cough.

 

"Stark-" Tony was ignoring him, looking around frantically for the medical transport as he kept talking. "You have to hang in there until we can get the medical crew down here. You have to-"

 

"Stark!" "What!?"

 

"There is nothing your Midgardian medicines can do for me now." His voice was so faint, Tony had to strain to hear it over the roar of the medical helicopter overhead.

 

"Don't say that. Don't fucking say that." Where the hell was the medical team?

 

"Anthony?" So quiet, barely a whisper. "I may not always show it, but never doubt that I have loved you." He had held on as long as he could just to tell his lover the one thing he had never had the courage to say. Tony caught his lips one last time before Loki gave a final shuddering cough, and was still. Tony was numb with shock as he felt the life slip away. The paramedics rushed over, arriving just moments too late. There was nothing they could do. He was gone. The team was suddenly around him, everything happening at once as the paramedics attempted to pry the body from his arms and the team tried to talk to him. 

 

It was too much.

 

Cradling the body of the sorcerer that had somehow become the love of his life, Tony threw back his head, and screamed.


	2. Coming around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleven months later, and Tony's not ready to come back. Too bad no one else got that memo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are not going to discuss how long it's taken me to update this, no we really aren't. Applications for a muse are open, and the next update wont take nearly as long.

He was staring again, standing out on the balcony, watching the black waves crash offshore, drink hardly touched in his hand as rain soaks through a thin t shirt. Natasha couldn't decide if it was poetic... or pathetic. The eyes are the windows to the soul, and if she could see his she was sure she'd see less than nothing reflected in them. Google the word "survivor," and the first thing that pops up is a picture of Tony goddamn Stark and his Arc Reactor. He'd clawed his way out of one hellhole in the desert only to land in another right in his own home. But now it seemed there was nothing left for him to fight for.

She crossed her arms over her chest and cleared her throat. He nodded once in acknowledgement but didn’t turn. “Fury send you?” Was all he said, finally remembering the tumbler of amber liquid in his hand and taking a long drink.

“Fury didn’t send me,” she said pointedly.

“Steve, then.” When she remained silent he turned to face her. “I’m not interested, Natasha. I think I made that clear.” She nodded with a shrug but didn’t move.

“You’re part of the team, Stark.” He laughed bitterly and took another pull from the glass. “We need you”

“You need the suit, you mean.”

“If we needed the suit we’d call Rhodey. We need you.” The sincerity behind her words caught him off guard and he set the drink down hard enough to shatter the glass on the railing. She seemed unimpressed by the display of childish rage.

“It’s been a year, Stark. While you’ve been mourning in self-imposed isolation the rest of the world is going to hell.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting off a headache. This was exactly what he didn’t need. He didn’t need the reminder of yet another failing, didn’t need to have someone point out just some other thing he wasn’t doing. Her tone softened a bit. “This is me asking nicely. I’m under instruction to bring you back one way or another. I’d prefer you came willingly.” It was a testament to his grief that he didn’t flip the innuendo.

“I thought you said Fury didn’t send you,” he stalled.

“He didn’t,” She said with another bored shrug. “Steve.” Fucking Rogers, he thought with conflicting emotions. It was like him to want unity in the ranks, but to not come down and talk to Tony personally. Not that JARVIS would have let him in. That was probably why Natasha was the one who had made the trip, he thought belatedly. Banner knew better than to push, Thor was almost as unreachable as the billionaire, and the rest didn’t know what to say. He supposed it made sense, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Fine,” he said, throwing up his hands and ushering her back inside. “What do you need?”

**Author's Note:**

> Don't hate me! He'll be back.
> 
> All mistakes in this chapter are my own, as I currently have no beta.


End file.
